


Emotion In Motion

by wingedbears



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, Handcuffs, M/M, Pre-Slash, catching feelings, talking it out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-10 17:57:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20855897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingedbears/pseuds/wingedbears
Summary: Steve and Billy get arrested, and spend the afternoon in handcuffs!





	Emotion In Motion

**Author's Note:**

> Ihni, I hope I did your prompt justice! (While everyone is here, please check out [Ihni's work on tumblr,](ihni.tumblr.com) it's AMAZING)

Steve is not sure how he got in this situation. 

Okay, that’s a lie. He knows how. 

It just feels a little better if he can claim ignorance. 

He’s currently handcuffed to none other than Billy Hargrove, sitting in the bed of Hopper’s truck.

Billy hasn’t said a word since they’ve been cuffed, and that’s probably the smart thing to do; Billy’s listened to his Miranda Rights. 

Steve, though, he can’t stand the silence. He’s been tapping the bedframe with his uncuffed hand, the right one, and noticing that Billy is trying to slowly get further away from him.

Their knuckles brush, Billy’s bloodied from Steve’s face. 

“How long do we have to wait here?” Billy grits out after Steve’s awesome rendition of “Rio” by Duran Duran on the truck bed. 

“I guess til Hopper gets back,” Steve says, looking into the woods. He knows the gate is closed. Hopper knows it’s closed. But sometimes that fear worms its way into him and won’t let go.

Hopper pulled the truck over and cuffed them together and went off into the woods about half an hour ago.

At least, that’s what Steve thinks, because he doesn’t have a watch, and has no way to tell time other than the hazy sun’s movement in the sky. Then again, he’s not sure he can tell time that way either.

“Were you in Boy Scouts?” Steve asks.

Billy shoots him a disgusted look. 

“I wasn’t,” Steve continues, undeterred. “Maybe I should have been.”

“Harrington if you don’t shut up I’m gonna beat your ass again,” Billy growls. 

Steve starts tapping out “Blue Monday” on the truck. Stops. Opens his mouth to ask a question, then thinks better of it. 

He’s not sure why Billy picked a fight this time around.

The details are hazy, just, Steve was in the parking lot of the grocery store with bags of soda and snacks for the party (a gathering was happening tonight, and Steve was missing it). 

Billy had stormed up up to him, his face twisted in fury, and Steve dropped the groceries and soda all over the asphalt. Billy’s two punches in to Steve’s one (Steve can’t see the shiner Billy’s got, but he’s sure it’s amazing) when Hopper pulls them apart. 

Hopper doesn’t even give them the chance to explain, just tosses them in the back of the truck and drives off.

“How long have we been back here?” Steve asks, seeing the sky turning to a soft yellow. The sun will be setting soon. And Hopper’s in the woods. 

_The gate’s closed_, Steve repeats to himself. _The gate’s closed._

But Hopper’s still in the woods. And it’s getting dark.

Steve nudges Billy. “How long has Hopper been in the woods?”

“An hour,” Billy replies. “Why?”

“We need to get in the truck and get help.”

“You want to get in the cab of the truck and go get help so we can be arrested?” Billy asks.

And yes, put it that way, and it sounds tremendously stupid. “Or we could go get help and possibly not get arrested. Take a risk, Hargrove.”

Billy huffs, and jumps up, yanking on Steve’s arm. “Fuck,” Billy says, “How are you so heavy?”

“I’m a growing boy,” Steve says, awkwardly standing up beside Billy, his wrist aching from Billy getting up so fast. 

Steve wants to suggest that maybe Billy _not_ yank on the handcuffs, as Steve’s attached to them, and by extension, Billy at the moment, but knows that will only encourage Billy to do the opposite. Because he’s an asshole.

They scramble out of the bed of the truck, Steve, and then Billy, each of them almost eating dirt with how they’re yanking on each other’s bodies. 

Luckily, the truck’s still open. 

Unluckily, they have to get in, and Billy has to drive._ If _the key is still in the cab. Steve gets in, looks in the ignition and in the glove box for a key. 

Billy rolls his eyes and reaches in to flip down the sun visor. The key tumbles onto the floorboard. 

Billy automatically reaches for it, but Steve grabs his hand, cursing. “Your fists were enough, I don’t want the steering wheel to add to this,” he says, gesturing to the congealed blood on his sore face.

Billy doesn’t say anything, just fishes the key out with his left hand. “Scoot over,” he grumbles.

Steve does, straddling the hump where the stick shift is, before waiting for Billy to get in. 

Billy does, and their thighs press together in the small space of the footwell. “Seriously?” Billy says, glaring at Steve’s thigh. 

“I couldn’t go any farther!” Steve complains, and lifts a knee up and has to swing it over the stick before finally getting to the other side of the hump. Not touching Billy. Or, at least, not their thighs. Their hands are still brushing each other’s. 

Billy turns the key in the ignition and pushes the truck into first gear, and it lurches forward before Billy peels it out onto the road. 

Steve grabs onto the car door and Billy’s wrist, which flexes as Billy pushes the truck up through the gears. “Christ, it’s not a car, take it easy!”

“Calm down, grandma,” Billy says, but eases off the gas. “Where are we headed, anyways?”

Steve tries to think. If it’s just weird police stuff, they need to go to the station. If it’s upside down related, they need to go to Dustin’s. But there’s no way to tell from what scant information they have. 

Steve looks at the radio, the CB there. Fuck, what was the channel the kids used?

Steve picks up the receiver, and hopes he’s doing the right thing. “Dustin?” he asks. “Dustin, it’s Steve. Pick up.” Steve waits for a moment, hearing nothing, and tries again. “Dustin?”

Steve looks over to Billy. “Take the next left.”

“Steve!” Dustin calls, his voice staticky and faint. “Where are you? Did you get the sodas? Oh my God, did you get a new radio? What are you using?”

“Dustin,” Steve says, cutting him off, “Dustin shut up!”

“ — you have to wait til I say over, Steve! Over!”

“Dustin, we lost Hopper in the woods, is El with you?” Steve asks. After a long pause he sighs. “Over,” he adds. 

“Yeah, El’s here, hang on.”

Steve continues to give directions to Billy, who’s looking continually more and more confused and angry. 

“Why are we going to see your loser kids?” Billy complains, shifting down at a stop sign. Steve’s hand flops in rhythm to the motion, hitting the radio. 

“Turn right,” Steve says, ignoring the comment, and then the receiver clicks again.

“Steve it’s Dustin, I’ve got El, what do you need? Over.”

“Dustin I’m almost there. I’m going to need El to find Hopper.” Steve points ahead. “The third one down.”

Billy pulls up to the Henderson household, and they both instinctively reach for their doors to get out before the handcuffs remind them that they’re still attached to each other. 

Billy curses, grabs onto Steve’s arm with his hands and yanks him over the bench seat and out the driver side.

“Christ, Billy!” Steve shouts, punching his shoulder, but there’s not enough of a good distance to really do any damage. It feels camaraderie-like, even. “Stop doing that!”

Billy snorts, and Steve can’t tell if it’s from laughter or contempt. Possibly both. 

Steve shuts the truck door and they walk up to the Henderson’s house. He’s mid-knock when he realizes how weird this is going to look to Mrs. Henderson, so he quickly steps in front of Billy to hide their joined hands.

“The fuck are you doing, Harrington?” Billy asks, as Mrs. Henderson opens the door.

“Ah, evening, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve says, gripping Billy’s wrist behind him tightly. “Just came to see Dustin, as… expected.”

“Of course, you’re always welcome here,” Claudia says, blinking at his oddity before smiling. “Come on in, you know where everything is,” she chuckles, and then pauses at Billy behind him, as Steve tries to shuffle them around. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” she says, reaching out a hand to shake.

Steve panics, wanting to bat Mrs. Henderson’s hand away, but Billy shoulders his way in front of Steve. Steve tries to yank Billy back with the hand holding Billy’s right arm in a death grip, and Billy lets him, just picks up Mrs. Henderson’s hand with his uncuffed one and plants a kiss on it.

“Billy Hargrove, ma’am,” he says, like he’s an actually polite teenage boy with fucking manners or some shit. 

Claudia titters, hitting his shoulder and blushing.

Steve glares at the back of Billy’s head. 

“Oh stop,” Mrs. Henderson says. “You boys are ridiculous. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” She steps away with Mew’s replacement, Captain Crunch, hot on her heels. 

“What the fuck, man,” Steve says, loosening his grip on Billy’s arm. “She’s a widow.”

“Easy pickings,” Billy smirks, smiling and running a pointed tongue along his bottom lip.

“Gross,” Steve says, “She’s a mom.”

“Mom’s know what they’re doing, Harrington. At least, your’s does.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “With the amount of time my mom’s actually in town, I’m surprised you’ve found the time to introduce yourself, let alone fuck her.”

Billy looks at him askance for a second, but then Steve’s already stalking into the den, where the group is gathered. 

“Steve!” Dustin shouts, and then there’s a cacophony of kids yelling at him, and gesturing at Billy, Max the most perturbed about the latter development.

“Guys! Guys!” Steve says, waving his right hand, trying to catch their attention. 

“Everybody shut up!” Billy yells, tense and angry.

The kids stop for a second before starting in again, louder than before. 

“No, Billy is right, shut up!” Steve says, and most everyone gapes at him, Billy included. “El: we need to talk to El.”

El steps forward, eyes wide and scared. “Jim,” she says softly, and Steve gets why everyone is riled. This is El’s _dad_, her caretaker, and if Hopper’s gone, then the tentative hold they have on each other is gone, and what the fuck would happen to El? 

“We know he’s in the woods by the Bradley’s Big Buy, at least four miles out,” Steve replies softly. “Like, two hours ago, though.” He feels guilty for not acting sooner.

Eleven closes her eyes, breathes out heavily, and the lights flicker. 

“What the fuck?” Billy asks, suddenly tense. 

Steve grabs onto his hand, squeezes, willing him to understand to not talk for a moment. 

Billy grips back tightly, watching as El’s nose begins to bleed. 

Everyone is quiet as she concentrates, and when she opens her eyes she smiles halfway. “Brother,” she says, voice full of wonder.

“Brother?” Mike squeaks, and Steve wants to shake Wheeler, because not everything is about him.

“In the lab. Brother,” Eleven repeats.

“Lab?” Billy asks, and Steve can understand the confusion, because Billy’s about to be dunked into a world of monsters and men who are monsters, too. 

“We’ll explain later,” Steve assures him, squeezing Billy’s hand again. Then, letting go quickly and blushing, because was he holding Billy’s hand this whole time? “Did you see where?”

El nods, and the kids start in again about coming with them to get Eleven’s brother, and Hopper.

“Hey, no!” Steve says. “We can’t bring all of you, we only have the truck.”

“We’ll ride in the back!” Dustin yells.

“To pick up a cop? Forget it!” Billy says, the voice of reason, for once. 

“We’ll take Eleven and that’s it. Everyone else needs to be here to distract Mrs. Henderson,” Steve says, final.

They all look at each other, using their own weird kid language and come to the decision that Steve is right, somehow.

“I’ll use Hopper’s CB to keep in touch, okay?” Steve says, and that seems to help ease their fears. 

Steve, Billy, and El all manage to sneak out of the Henderson’s house without too much further ado.

Steve has to straddle the stick shift this time, and he places his hand on Billy’s as Billy deftly moves between Steve’s thighs.

Steve tries not to think about it.

El quietly tells them directions, and Billy follows without a lot of complaining, which Steve is utterly grateful for. 

“Here, stop here,” El says after a few minutes, and Billy pulls the truck over, slamming and skidding on the road.

Steve braces himself on the dashboard, and is thankful that at least El is wearing a seatbelt. 

They all pile out of the truck and El leads them into the woods, eyes wide and unafraid. She steps deftly through the underbrush, while leaves and sticks crack in Billy and Steve’s wake.

“What the fuck is going on?” Billy says hissingly to Steve fifteen minutes into their wood trek.

“It’s uh,” Steve pauses, thinking of all the paperwork he’s signed for men that do bad things to good people, “complicated?” he lands on.

“Yeah, no fucking kidding, dumbass, I’m following a walking compass with a nosebleed looking for her brother made in a lab and her cop-dad, chained to a pretty boy with no sense of self preservation. Start talking.”

“Okay, so, El grew up in a lab, and there are monsters from… not here, and sometimes we have to fight some of the monsters?”

“Monsters?” Billy scoffs.

“You asked,” Steve says, eyes darting around the darkened woods, ears straining for a clicking sound, or the high pitched screech of a demodog. _The gate is closed_, he thinks, closing his eyes, trying to will it away. 

Billy squeezes the hand that Steve doesn’t remember holding onto.

“Jim,” El says into the too quiet woods in front of them.

“Hopper?” Steve yells out.

There’s footsteps, and Steve pushes El behind them.

“Hopper?” Steve asks, again, and there’s a bright light shining in his face suddenly.

“Harrington?” Jim’s rough voice sounds out, and Steve practically deflates on the forest floor. “What the hell, kid?” The beam of light lowers from Steve’s face to El, darting out from behind him.

“You went missing, so we uh…”

“Yeah, I got it,” Hopper says, saving Steve from having to fish around for words.

Hopper looks at them, then down at El, who is vibrating in excitement. 

“Brother,” she says, smiling.

Hopper rubs his neck, and Steve’s stomach sinks. “Yeah, he’s not as pumped as you, kid,” he says.

“Let me talk to him,” she says after a moment. 

Hopper looks like he wants to stop her, to protect, something, but he just flattens the line of his mouth and nods.

They watch as El approaches the small boy, who seems to recognize her, and Jim Hopper turns back to Steve and Billy “You boys straighten shit out?” he asks.

“I told him,” Steve blurts out and Hopper glares.

“I told him too,” Billy says, taking the blame. 

Hopper darts his eyes between the two of them and then heaves a long sigh, pulling out his keys from his belt. “Hargrove, you better stay quiet about this,” he says. “Understand?”

“Yeah,” Billy says, shoving his hand still linked to Steve’s to Hopper’s face. 

Hopper reluctantly unlocks the handcuffs.

They sit at the dinner on Main afterwards, nearing nine at night, both of them hungry, Steve’s food getting cold from answering all of Billy’s questions and not eating. 

Billy starts snagging cold fries from Steve’s plate. He pauses, fry dripping in ketchup and purposefully, slowly, drags his knuckles across Steve’s hand, before popping the fry in his mouth, lightening quick. 

“Too bad about your face,” Billy says, brashly enough for an insult, soft enough that Steve takes it for the apology Billy means. “Shit’s bad enough.”

“You didn’t know,” Steve replies. “Nobody knows.”

“We all got secrets,” Billy says, glaring out the window.

“That’s why I got a shiner?” Steve jokes.

Billy’s wide index finger, wet from his mouth, wraps around the pads of Steve’s own, and Steve shudders. “Yeah,” Billy says after a moment, too serious. “I got a shit ton of secrets, and you’re one of them.”

“I’ll keep it between us, then,” Steve says, and he feels warm all over. 


End file.
